The Harder You Fall (14 page)

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Authors: Gena Showalter

BOOK: The Harder You Fall
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No emotion in her tone or in expression. She was suddenly a blank slate, and he couldn't stand it. “As a friend, like you and Daniel. She asked me to attend. I said yes.”

“Well. Good for you.” Up went her chin. “I hope you two have the
best
time. And now I'm going to shower up and go to bed. Got to get an early start tomorrow.”

“Practice isn't over.”

“I beg to differ,” she said as she walked away.

Every cell in his body rebelled.
Get her back
. “Jessica,” he called.

She paused in the doorway. “What?”

His mind overruled his libido. “If you want to practice with me, buy a sports bra. Nothing with lace.”

“Well, then, you'll have to buy me one.” She cupped her breasts. “Make sure you get the right size.”

The back door slammed shut, but he rushed forward, unwilling to part from her, entering the house right on her heels. “I asked you to be with me. You said no. I'm trying not to hurt you.”

“You're failing.” She stomped down the hall. In her doorway, she whipped around to scowl at him. “You shouldn't settle for a woman you don't even like.”

“There's a reason I do what I do.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

Fury blazed in those navy eyes, simmered beneath the flush in her skin, pulled tight at those lush red lips. “You're worth more than a perfunctory relationship with no future. You and Miss Gentry aren't right for each other and you know it. In two months, you'll be even more miserable than you are now.”

He wanted to deny her prediction. He couldn't. “You once told me I looked good with her.”

“There's a big difference between looking good together and being good together.”

He should hole up in his own room. He shouldn't push this.

Observe. Understand. Act.

Sometimes the best course of action was to walk away. But something dark and dangerous lived deep inside him, a beast with an unquenchable appetite for this woman alone, and it wanted to push and push and push until she ceded everything she had to give.

Screw it.

“I'll call Monica tonight...if you'll tell me why you don't want me to see her.” The low rasp of his tone whispered in the air between them. “If you'll tell me what you want from me.”

“I don't want you to see her because...because...I want you to fall in love again,” she said almost desperately. “I want you to find happiness.”

Not even close to good enough. “You're speaking too abstractly, avoiding what makes you uncomfortable. You're speaking of things I can't control. Get personal,” he all but snarled.

“Why should I?
You
are putting the burden of responsibility on my shoulders, leaving none for yourself.”

She wasn't wrong. He scrubbed a hand down his face.

“But let's take you out of the equation for a moment.
I
want to fall in love.” She ran her tongue over her lips, those full, pink lips, and he watched, helpless to do otherwise, wanting, craving, wishing, and maybe she sensed it, sensed his desire, because in a snap, her body language changed from stiff and straight as a board to soft and supple. “I want to find happiness, and there's nothing abstract about it.” Her voice had even softened.

“Jessie Kay—”

“And I
can
control my actions,” she continued, “by choosing the company I keep and cutting the people who
impede
that happiness.”

With those few words, she utterly eviscerated him. “I would love a chance to make you happy. And I could do it. I know I could.
You
know I could,” he said. “But...”

“Only for two months.”

He nodded.

Gaze hot on his, she flattened her hands on his shoulders and walked him backward until he hit the wall. He could have spun her, could have caged her, but he remained in place, letting her have her way.

She rubbed her cheek against his. “What makes you think you'll be done with me in two months?”

He was rock hard and throbbing, and he didn't think he'd
ever
be done with her. “Done or not, I'd leave.”

“Well, I'm sorry, sugar bear, but I want more.”

“I can't give more.”

“Be real. You
won't
.” She rolled her hips once, twice, rubbing against his erection. Pure. Seduction. Raw and carnal. He loved it, suddenly lit up from the inside out, burning for her—for more. For everything. “Tell me why.”

“Kiss me.” He gripped her by the waist, ready to yank her closer for good, to strip her, to take her—and he had to take her, all the reasons to resist suddenly insignificant—but she latched on to his wrists and pinned his arms at his sides.

Another show of power and control. Yet again, he could resist, and if he did, there was no way she could hold him in place. But he would rather die than scare her away.

“Kiss me,” he repeated.

“No,” she said but nipped at his lips.

“Jessie Kay,” he rasped, her name a curse or a prayer, he wasn't sure which.

“Tell me.” She angled her head and grazed her teeth over his earlobe, her warm breath caressing his skin. “Please.”

The whispered “please” pushed him over. If he scared her away, he scared her away, but he had to try for more. He just had to. “I'll give you five seconds to make a decision about me. Take me up on my offer and strip, or walk away. If your hands are on me when I get to zero, I'll make the decision for you. One.”

She gasped but remained with him.

“Two. Three.”

“West.” Still she remained with him...and he began to hope, to pray.

“Four.”

Just as he opened his mouth for the final count, his body primed and ready, her arms dropped to her sides and she stepped back.

He swallowed a curse.

“One day you're going to want a woman more than you want your reason, Lincoln West. You're going to crave her with every fiber of your being, but
she'll
be the one to walk away from
you
. And then, some other guy will come around and sweep her off her feet.” With that, she marched into her room and slammed the door.

He reeled. He stewed. He would kill any man who tried to sweep Jessie Kay off her feet.

My job. My privilege.

He took a moment to breathe, willing the wild inferno inside him to calm. She was right to walk away. But he couldn't leave things like this. He had to—

The door wrenched open and she screamed, “Spider! Kill it! Kill it dead!” She rushed behind him and fisted his shirt to hold him in place, as her shield. “Why aren't you doing anything?”

Having her so close once again was a torment as much as a pleasure. “You want me to go inside your room, kitten, you have to let go of me.”
Good luck getting rid of me once I'm there.

One by one, her fingers lifted from his shirt. He stepped forward, his first glimpse inside her inner sanctum surprising him. The bedsheets had rainbows and unicorns, and the curtains were decorated with ballerinas and butterflies. The nightstand looked like it stood on human legs with feet encased in actual tennis shoes. The dresser looked like something out of
Alice in Wonderland
, tall and skinny, tilting to one side while scrawny arms reached out.

“Have you killed it yet?” She came up behind him to peek over his shoulder, only to release an ear-piercing scream. “The bastard just looked at me and licked its lips. Grab the .22 in the top drawer of the nightstand and shoot it!” She tried to push him forward while also pulling him backward. “We'll tape its remains outside my window as a warning to other spiders.”

Adorable, aggravating girl. “Where is it?”

“How can you not see the fist-sized abomination sharpening a mental fork and knife? It's there.” She pointed, hastily jerking back her arm.

He spotted the dime-size arachnid and rolled his eyes. “What do I get if I save you from such a ferocious beast?”

“My eternal gratitude?”

He'd take it...even though he wanted more.

CHAPTER TEN

J
ESSIE
K
AY
SPENT
the next day with Brook Lynn, as planned, doing her darnedest to resist the temptation to text West. After he'd disposed of the spider without killing it—a heinous crime against humanity—she'd wanted to just go ahead and hand over rights to her soul or her body, whichever he preferred. Or hey, why not both? He affected her in ways no one else ever had.

Rubbing against him had basically blown a gasket in her brain.

Matching wits with him had set her mind aflame.

Why not give him more than she'd ever given another? A chance for more.

Earlier she'd called Beck, seeking more advice.

“How can he not see how good we are together?” she'd asked.

“I'm sure he does. Just as I'm sure it terrifies him. His schedule is fighting for its life.”

Made sense to think of the schedule as a person. The bastard! To it—him—Jessie Kay was the enemy and Monica the ally.

“Right now he's like a drowning man flailing for a life raft,” Beck had added. “As soon as he goes under, the old West will die and a new West will rise.”

Patience is a virtue. Patience is a freaking virtue.

Got to have him. Soon!

Ugh. The urgency made zero sense. To her, sex had always been sex. Some encounters had been good, really good, and some had been bad, really bad, but either way, the act itself had always been secondary, something she could live without, what came before and after it far more important. First, the anticipation and seeming adoration. Then, for just a little while, a sense of belonging to someone else. Of course, after
that
she'd always experienced crushing disappointment.

Never good enough to keep.

Would things be different with West?

Silly question. He wanted a one-night stand or a two-month affair. Things would be the exact same. Wham, bam. Hello and goodbye.

“I love the way your watch glitters.” At the stove, Brook Lynn stirred a pot of sweet-smelling liquid.

“I know.” Her gaze constantly gravitated to it. “The only thing prettier is the bracelet you made from a twine of daisies in the third grade.”

“You still have that thing?”

As if she'd ever part with it. “Of course. A few of the stems still have petals.”

“I had no idea you were so sentimental.” Brook Lynn smiled at her.

“Only with you.”

“Maybe with West, too? He sure knows how to give good gift.”

“He says it's not a gift but an insurance plan for his schedule.” Clearly, he just had a problem with the thought of giving her—anyone?—a present. Another foster-kid problem? Or just a man thing?

The wedding march suddenly burst from speakers somewhere in the room, and Jessie Kay frowned.

“Stir the jaboticaba sauce, would you?” Brook Lynn abandoned her post to grab her cell phone.

Ah. A personalized ringtone.

As Jessie Kay did as requested, her sister adjusted the devices in her ears and spoke with...had to be the seamstress.

“No. No! I told you I don't want sapphire bridesmaid dresses, I want cerulean.” Brook Lynn paced through the kitchen. “Don't you dare tell me it's too late. We have five months... No, no. Are you even listening to me? I'm going to—”

“Lose your temper?” Jessie Kay offered helpfully.

“Hang up and think about everything you've told me.” Brook Lynn very carefully placed the phone on the table.

“I'll go out on a limb and guess...there's trouble with the bridesmaid dresses?”

Her sister stomped her foot. “Dang it! This makes me wish the zombie apocalypse would go ahead and kick off already. I could use my sword to rectify the situation without getting arrested.”

Brook Lynn believed with all her heart that zombies were a sure thing, and it was freaking adorable.

Jessie Kay hated the stress the dress thing was causing her sister, but at long last saw an opportunity to help the girl and prove her everlasting love. “Don't you give it another worry. You pick the material you want and I'll sew the dresses. And for the first time in history, the bridesmaids will completely outshine the bride.”

Brook Lynn gave a little laugh, a mix of relief and amusement. “Really? You don't mind?”

“Mind? I'm willing to beg for the privilege. More than anything, I want to help you the way you've always helped me.”

“You don't have to—”

“Let me do this. Please.”

Brook Lynn gave her a bear hug. “Thank you.”

“Absolutely my pleasure.”

The doorbell rang, causing her sister to frown. “I wasn't expecting company.”

“I was.” Jessie Kay set the spoon next to the pan. “I hope you don't mind, but I invited Daniel to help us out.”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Jase standing up. He'd spent the past hour on the couch, drawing designs for his new house. Jessie Kay raced past him, pushing him back onto the cushions.

“I've got this.”

She opened the door and Daniel smiled his patented shit-eater grin before kissing her on the cheek.

She kissed him back—a peck on the mouth.
He
never made her feel like girls named Monica were more important.

“Something smells good.” He sniffed the air.

“Stop flirting.”

“I was talking about the food.”

“Lying is beneath you. Now, come on. We've got work to do.” She dragged him past a now-scowling Jase, saying, “You guys know each other, right? Right. No need for intros.” In the kitchen, she urged Daniel toward the table. “Sit and chop the rest of the vegetables.”

“Sir, yes, sir. FYI, it already looks like a vegan slaughterhouse in here.”

“Those vegetables deserved to die,” Jessie Kay said. “They tried to impersonate human food.”

“Hey, Daniel,” Brook Lynn said with a little wave.

“Hey.” He grimaced as he looked over the pile awaiting his attention. “These things are edible?”

“I know, right?” Jessie Kay took the chair at his right. “This looks like a hairy nut sac and this looks like a demon foot. Taste it.”

“No way—”

She placed the demon foot at his lips.

He flinched. “That has to be the foulest thing I've ever had in my mouth.”

“Good to know.” She made a notation on the list Brook Lynn asked her to make.

“You mean you didn't know?”

“Why would I?
You
are the official taste-tester.”

Jase stomped into the kitchen, looking mad and bad to the bone. He took a seat at the table, directly across from Daniel. He didn't say anything, just stared.

Any other man would have peed his pants, but Daniel—Army Ranger, yo—was braver than most. He remained relaxed and at ease as Jessie Kay fed him bite after bite of mystery ingredients.

“Jase Hollister,” Brook Lynn finally said. “Contribute or leave.”

“Oh, I contributed.”

A second later, hinges on the front door creaked. Footsteps sounded.

“What did you do?” Brook Lynn demanded.

For the first time, Jase smiled—and it was scarier than his scowl.

West sailed into the kitchen, draped his jacket over the back of the only remaining chair and sat. “Hello, everyone.” His gaze locked on Jessie Kay and narrowed. “Thought I'd take my lunch break here.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. He'd come for her. Oh, sweet heavens...

What if he staked a claim?

“Your schedule must be crying,” she said.

“Sobbing,” he replied, surprising her.

“Well.” She cleared her throat. “I don't need to make introductions. I hear you and Daniel have already met.”

West appeared far from abashed. “We have. I'd love a chance to continue our previous conversation in private.”

And make good on his threat? “He's busy.”

In a loud stage whisper, she told Daniel, “Whatever you do, don't go into a supply closet with him. He gets handsy.”

“I'm not the only one.” West smirked at her. “Nowadays I prefer hallways.”

Her cheeks pinkened as her mind flashed with images of pressing him against the wall, rubbing against him—being rubbed on by him.

“Oh, my gosh.” Brook Lynn came over and leaned against Jase. “You made my sister blush, West. I don't think I've
ever
seen her blush. What happened in the hallway? I must know every detail.”

Jessie Kay raised her chin. “He gave me a good old-fashioned bump and grind, that's what.”

“Before that,” West said, still utterly unabashed, “she sat on my lap.”

“I did not—oh, yeah. I did.” And she'd loved every second.

Jase smiled his I'm-going-to-murder-you smile. “In case you didn't know, Danny boy, West and Jessie Kay live together.”

“Temporarily,” she interjected. “And yeah, he knew. I don't keep secrets from him.” Except for everything she'd shared with West.

West stiffened. His eyes narrowed to tiny slits.

“Look.” Daniel focused on him. “I'm her friend, and you're not going to scare me away. You want to be with her, great, but you need to get used to having me around. I'm not going anywhere. You also need to get your shit together and treat her right, or
I'll
be the one making threats.”

Her heart swelled with pride as she peered at him. He'd just
fought
for the privilege of hanging out with her—without the bonus of sex or any kind of making out.

“Daniel,” she said as a lump grew in her throat. “You are officially my hero.”

“Mine, too.” Brook Lynn beamed at him.

Jase crossed his arms over his chest. “You are officially my target.”

West placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, which visibly calmed him, then looked to Daniel. “You're a prick and you're annoying as hell...but you're also right.”

What the what now? Daniel had just said one of the sweetest things ever, and West lost his jealousy, just like that?

But West wasn't done. “She's the kindest, silliest, most complicated person I've ever met, and she deserves friends who see the treasure she is. Friends who will stand up for her, love her and make her happy. She deserves the best.”

Scratch that.
West
had just said the sweetest thing ever.

He thought she was a treasure? Didn't he realize that honor belonged to Brook Lynn?

“Thank you,” Jessie Kay whispered.

He didn't stick around to bask in her surprised glow. He stood and strode out of the kitchen...out of the house, leaving her reeling.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
DAY
was a buzz of activity, distracting Jessie Kay from the mess West had made of her mind, and maybe kinda sorta her heart. He thought she was a treasure!

This morning, he'd left her a note beside the coffeepot.

“Your acumen is as radiant as your smile.”

And by the canister of sugar, there'd been another.

“Your ebullience makes me smile.”

Hanging on the fridge, there'd been a third.

“As brilliant as you are, I'm pretty sure you could find the end of a circle.”

The sweet affirmations reminded her of the letters her dad had written to her mom, and they made her weak in the freaking knees.

West was attracted to her. He'd made no secret about that. And he clearly liked her. But was it enough? He wouldn't tell her the reason for the two-month date-and-dump, and he wouldn't make an exception for her by trying for something longer-term.

They were doomed before they started.

“And what do we have here?” a voice asked, drawing her from her thoughts.

An older man in a suit and tie stepped in front of her, snagging her attention. His gaze remained glued to the tray in her hand. A woman around the age of three thousand stood beside him, her nose in the air. An old fart and a former debutante. Great. Monica's Christmas party slash douchefest had officially kicked off.

Jessie Kay lifted her tray higher, letting the gent get a whiff of the mystery ingredients masquerading as sausage balls and pasted a superbright smile on her face. “It's your lucky day. I have the best thing you'll ever put in your mouth.”

The two sampled the food and walked away without another word.

“You're welcome,” Jessie Kay muttered, deciding You've Got It Coming deserved a thousand dollar bonus on top of triple their usual fee. Because of the late notice, she and Brook Lynn had been unable to hire enough waitstaff, forcing them to don the uniform themselves: a white button-down, black slacks and tuxedo apron.

More and more buff young men and toned young women began to spill through the arched doorways. Trainers, no doubt about it. Monica's employees. Monica, who was as successful as Jessie Kay hoped to be—but never would be. The beauty not only starred in workout videos, but she owned a chain of gyms in Oklahoma City. Bodies by Monica.

The older crowd must be Monica's family. Or board members—if she had board members. Or maybe her finance team? Who knew.

Meanwhile, I'm struggling to make ends meet. I suck.

Jessie Kay wove through the grand ballroom, a room boasting luxuries a small-town girl like her had never dreamed possible. An arched ceiling with intricately carved rose vines reached toward a pair of dazzling chandeliers that dripped with thousands of teardrop crystals. Huge stained glass windows were draped in plum velvet and gold lace, the fabrics twisted into fancy knots on each side. Murals depicting English lords and ladies at a party of their own decorated the walls.

Ever the dedicated waitress—cough, because she loved her sister, cough—she stopped when she happened upon a group of the younger peeps. “I hope you brought your appetite. These babies are going to blow you away.”

One of the girls reached toward the tray. Another slapped her hand and whispered, “I think she's the one Monica warned us about.”

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